


The Masks We Wear

by Black_to_clover



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Avengers Family, Basically Tony has someone else in his head, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, His name is Edward, How Do I Tag, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, It will be explained later on, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Multiple Personalities, Not Canon Compliant, Peter is basically Tony Stark's son, Protective Peter Parker, Protective Tony Stark, The Avengers Are Good Bros, Tony Angst, Tony Feels, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Villain Tony Stark, What-If, but not really mutiple personalites, but not really...
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-19
Updated: 2019-11-21
Packaged: 2020-07-08 06:42:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19865200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Black_to_clover/pseuds/Black_to_clover
Summary: "Your mother isn’t coming," the voice growled, low and seething." So, I will protect you instead."Tony leaped into the dark.And from the pit roared a burning anger in memory of a mother’s love.***The night both Maria and Tony Stark fell, Edward was born.***What if Tony Stark's mind had snapped one night after a terrible beating from his father?What if, in revenge, he'd become the villain instead of the hero?What if the Avengers wanted him anyway?





	1. Monsters in the Night

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! How's it hangin? So this is probably a stupid idea, but I decided to start another story even though I already have a WIP. But...meh. Sue me. I had an idea and I couldn't resist writing it down. Tell me what you guys think! 
> 
> WARNING: This story shows depictions of severe child abuse so please be careful.

* * *

Anthony Stark was born on May 29, 1970 in a small private hospital in California. His mother wept slow, happy tears when she held him for the first time, his father nowhere to be seen. The newborn had been worryingly small, the doctors warned. And to the dismay of the CEO of Stark Industries, this came with a long list of possible ailments in the future. This was currently the reason why he had yet to even touch his child before he was off and discussing matters with the medical staff. There was no way that any child of his would grow up to be just another invalid. Maria, however, couldn’t care less. She knew instantly as she looked into her son’s bright and shining eyes that, no matter what anyone said, he would grow up to be one of the strongest people she would ever know.

“You are strong, my little Antonio," she crooned softly to him, "You will do great things, darling. I just know it.”

The woman looked up at the sounds of her husband making his way down to her hospital door. He was talking in fast low whispers to the doctors, looking less than pleased. Gaze rising to meet hers’ for just a moment, eyes showing not even the slightest bit of warmth, he gave her a cold nod in acknowledgement and then returned to discussing matters of seemingly more importance. The happiness that fluttered in the woman’s stomach dimmed slightly. But as she turned her gaze back to the gurgling, sleepy child in her arms, it came back fuller than ever.

“But for now,” she murmured, voice cracking slightly, “I will be your shield, your protector. No one shall dare touch you while I am still here. I promise.”

And no one did. For _four blessed_ years, no one did. Not even her husband. Maria Stark made sure of it. She was a Stark now. And even before her marriage, her spirit was already made of iron. No matter what the consequences, she always made sure that the majority of her husband’s growing ire was directed towards her. Anyone who wished to fling her son’s unique qualities in the boy’s face and mock him for his strange quirks, mostly from his growing ability to pick up subjects too advanced for his age, were quickly dealt with by her. Her boy was smart, smarter than her husband even, and she could see it in Howard’s eyes that he was intimidated. But as long as she was there, no one, and she meant _no one_ , would touch her son. Howard knew that the only thing keeping her there was Tony. But she also knew that, no matter how hard she tried, she would never be the one to keep the boy if the marriage was annulled. 

So, for four years, she protected. She stayed. She shielded.

It wasn't until that fourth year came that Maria fell and Edward took her place.

***

The night Edward was born, Tony had been hiding and his father had been drinking. The occurrence, though not exactly uncommon, was increasing in frequency; and the young boy had simply grown up with the idea that it was normal for an adult’s breath to constantly smell rancid with alcohol and that being called a ‘useless bastard’ was what daddies always called their children. However, from the growing tightness around his momma’s kind eyes as she sang him to sleep and the black and blue bruises that Tony saw from time to time on his sweet momma’s skin, his growing mind was beginning to think that it wasn’t all that normal after all.

It had started out like any other night in the Stark household. His father had come back from work tired and irritated and, as always, he turned to the bottle to drown away his frustrations. However, this time, the whiskey did not turn his mind sluggish nor did it simply turn his grumblings to horrid, yet harmless, jeers toward his son. This time, the irritation became full blown anger, and Howard Stark’s eyes blazed with a burning fury that Tony had never seen before.

The boy had only wanted to show his father the circuit board that he had created and had been working on for days. Growing up, Tony had come to realize that none of the other boys his age could do what he could, see what he saw when presented with complex math equations. The numbers just seemed to fly off the pages and his teachers had been so amazed that they were debating whether to have him skip a couple grades. He heard whispers that it was only to be expected. He was Howard Stark’s son after all. The boy had felt elation at being compared to his father and very much wanted to follow in his footsteps.

And so, he tried to build just like his father. Worked hours in the engineer’s workshop to create something that would make his father proud.

However, it was becoming obviously clear, that his hopes were for naught.

For a moment, after Tony shyly presented the circuit board to his father as he sat nursing a drink, the man simply stared at the board of wires and lights. Then, as seconds past, his dazed expression turned hard as stone and he callously grabbed the board out of his son’s tiny hands. The usual cold-hearted insults swiftly turned into cruel threats. 

“How dare a little shit like you go near my lab!” he accused, rising from his chair, “I ought ‘a beat you black and blue for trying to steal from me!”

The irate drunkard suddenly reached out to grab him and the little boy cried out in distress, running behind the doorway to his father’s study. His mother, having the foresight that this would happen, was already near, swiftly stepping between them like she had always done for years now. With soft, soothing murmurs, she quietly tried to placate her husband. However, this did nothing, and the man’s anger simply changed targets. The boy watched with horror as his father struck his mother with a bruising force, causing her to cry out and topple over, hitting her head on the edge of a table with a loud crack.

Tony let out a quiet scream as his momma crumpled to the ground. This wasn’t the first time the boy had seen his father hit his mother, but it had never been done this violently and with so much red. Tony stared as a pool of blood begun to form near her head. The moment of shocked silence as both father and son looked down at the fallen woman was unsettling. From his view from the entrance, the boy could clearly see the limp body, void of any life—and after a moment it became very clear.

The woman wasn’t moving.

The tentative silence broke as the boy gave out a shaky whimper.

“Momma?”

This was clearly the wrong thing to do for it only caught the attention of his father once again. The man, seemingly stunned for a moment at the picture of his fallen wife, suddenly zeroed in on his four-year-old child with an acid glare. His face scrunched up in ugly anger as he accusingly pointed the hand still holding the circuit board at his son.

“ _You_ did this! Look at what you’ve made me do, you piece of fucking shit!”

Tony’s heart jumped into his throat and he bolted as his father rushed towards him, not even chancing looking back at the man. The child’s fast, little feet carried him down the winding hallways of the mansion. His father’s accusations rang clear in his ears, only making him sprint faster and away from the drunkard. It felt like a life time before the boy found himself standing before the only place that he felt was safe.

Jarvis’ room.

Unfortunately, the butler was nowhere to be seen and the little boy let out a silent cry of helplessness as tears continued to drip down his frightened young face.

“Where are you, you coward?” his father’s voice echoed, far too close for comfort.

The boy paled and dashed into the elderly man’s room anyway, closing the door as quickly and quietly as possible. Tony, still feeling too exposed, sought out Jarvis’ closet and speedily crawled into its reassuring darkness. Curling up into a ball, the boy shut his eyes tight and cupped his hands over his ears, willing the noise of his father’s screams to go away. His heart kept beating a terrible rhythm and his breath came quick and shallow. However, the picture of his mother’s fallen body kept whirling behind his eyelids, flashing to the growing puddle of blood spilling from her temple.

_I will always protect you, my Antonio._

Her sweet voice murmured in his ear.

Tony clamped down a hand over his mouth to stop the sobs that shook through his body. The tears just refused to stop and a dark, murky pressure was starting to take form in the back of his mind. His momma was hurt. This was all his fault, he thought painfully. He shouldn’t have shown ~~daddy~~ _father_ his new project. He shouldn’t have thought it would make him happy. It was—it was just that father was always just so _angry_ whenever he came home. And it made his momma and Jarvis sad all the time. (They had tried to hide it, but Tony could tell.) And—and he just wanted the man to be proud of him for once.

Another sob shook through the boy and he tried his hardest to keep it in, but this time a little whimper escaped from his lips. The noise, although small, seemed to echo in the deafening silence. Tony froze and his face turned even more ghostly white as his father’s footsteps paused and seemed to come closer. He had been too loud.

Father didn’t like it when he was loud.

Jarvis’ door slammed open, the back of it hitting the wall with a bang. Tony automatically flinched away and he couldn’t hold back his cry of dismay. Howard’s eyes narrowed at the sound, and he took two drunken strides to the boy’s hiding place, yanking the doors open to reveal the shaking form of his teary-eyed son.

“Come here, you little shit!” his father snarled, roughly grabbing him by the lapels of his shirt. Tony felt a chill go up his spine as utter fear began to settle in his stomach and the dark presence in his head began to grow in size. His father had never touched him like this. His momma had always stopped him before he had the chance—had even taken the hit in his stead a couple of times.

Just like she had done tonight.

The boy froze up as his feet began to rise from the ground and his body limply dangled from his father’s grip.

“No,” Tony whimpered meekly, not even daring to struggle, tears still streaming down his face.

“Father, please.”

His words met deaf ears and Howard’s face, already twisted in anger, creased even further in fury, eyes hardening. He violently shook Tony in the air, causing the boy to cry out in pain as hands then grabbed his arms hard enough to break. His vision went black and the darkness took over completely for just a second.

 _No, no, no, where is momma?_ The boy’s mind raged as he outwardly whimpered. His momma had always protected him.

“Shut up, you weak little shit! This is all your fault!” the drunkard’s voice roared, shaking him again and again and again, causing Tony’s head to whip back and forth so fast he was seeing stars. His mind felt like it was about to literally shatter. The dark pressure was encroaching, spindling its way through every part of him, growing rapidly at every violent jerk.

“Stop. Pl-please,” the boy sobbed out.

The harsh hold on his arms hardened even further and for a moment the shaking ceased. However, before the boy could even sigh in relief, he was flung to the ground, his small frame hitting the floor—hard. Sharp pain shot through his body and the darkness instantly overtook him, a high-pitched ringing in his ears taking control of his senses. The pressure in his head seemed to burst, licking at the edge of his consciousness like a wave on the sand, lingering like a great chasm into oblivion.

 _Momma!_ His mind still pleaded weakly, drowning in itself, _I’m sorry. I won’t do it again. Help me._ _Momma!_

 ** _Your mother isn’t coming_** _,_ a voice within the darkness whispered.

Mentally staggering back at the new presence, the boy had no time to answer back before a hand gripped a chunk of Tony’s hair and pulled him into the light. Tony screamed. His eyes shot open as his body was forced upward by the roots of his head.

“Father…” he gasped.

His neck was being forced to bend in a painful angle, making the boy meet the acid gaze of Howard’s once again. Helplessly looking into the man’s cold, steely glare, it felt like ages, as brown locked onto brown. Despite the man’s obvious drunkenness, his eyes still held slivers of the genius’ natural intelligence, seemingly analyzing every part of Tony’s face. The man didn’t seem to like what he saw, however, for he gripped the boy’s hair even harder. Pulling Tony’s face so close he could smell the putrid smell of alcohol as it was puffed against his skin, the man all but hissed.

“You are no son of mine.”

Tony felt like he was about to break. The ache surging through his body and the painful grip in his hair was nothing compared to how shattered the child felt at those words. Hot tears prickled against his cheeks once again as Howard Stark finally released him. Falling limply to the ground, the boy had no energy to avoid the following kick that was going straight for his stomach. Blacking out once again, the darkness seemed to be a nicer place to go than reality at the moment. Even as his body crumpled as it was hit once more, the shadow deep within his mind was already enveloping him in an embrace and, instead of shying away, the boy willingly went into its comforting hold, the pain turning into nothing but a simple echo. And just as he was about to tip over the edge into its deep chasms, the voice rose once more—low, and seething.

 ** _Your mother isn’t coming_** _._ It growled. **_So, I will protect you instead_**.

Tony leaped into the dark.

And from the pit roared a burning anger in memory of a mother’s love.

***

The night both Maria and Tony Stark fell, Edward was born.

***

Headline News:

**MARIA AND TONY STARK FOUND BEATEN IN THEIR OWN HOME**

_Everyone was horrified to hear the news that both Maria and Tony Stark had been found brutally beaten in their mansion in California. The assailants have yet to be caught, however the CEO of Stark Industries, Howard Stark, is working his hardest to find those who dared beat his wife and son._

_“I will do everything in my power to catch the bastards who did this,”—H. Stark._

_Both victims are currently in the Intensive Care Unit and all visitations have been blocked. From what could be gathered; however, Maria Stark suffered a hard blow to the head and is in a coma. Insiders from the hospital state that she might never wake again. In the case of Anthony, America’s four-year-old darling, his injuries were said to be even more severe, suffering trauma to both the head and the abdomen. Any more details have yet to be disclosed at this time, but the world waits with baited breath to hear more about the health of its favorite billionaire family._


	2. Not Even God

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little glimpse of Tony's time in the hospital.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey again! This chapter is short but I hope you guys enjoy. I am honestly really happy with the feedback I've gotten on this story. You guys are amazing and it makes me smile like a fricken maniac whenever I read one of your comments. So, please keep them coming! Any constructive criticism is welcome and if you guys just want to say 'hi' that would be awesome too. :)

* * *

Maria Stark did not die of her wounds, though she did remain in a coma. Tony, against the orders of the exasperated medical staff, stayed by her side the entire time. As soon as he, himself had woken up and was able to stand, he refused to leave her side for a second. No matter what the staff tried to do or say, the boy would just not listen. As a result, the doctors had no choice but to bend to the whims of the four-year-old child. They reluctantly set up another bed in her hospital room and transferred him to her quarters.

They did this for three reasons.

The first was that there was no way they could ever argue with the child of the hospital’s biggest benefactor. Mr. Stark didn’t seem to care either way, seeing how he was never present; however, the staff allowed the boy’s stubborn actions all the same just in case.

The second reason was more for the child’s benefit. He looked so sad and worried as he looked at his mother. Whenever the nurses checked up on the two of them, their hearts broke just a little bit more at the sight of such a young kid barely holding himself together as he clutched his mother’s hand, silenlty willing the woman to open her eyes. He also still needed to heal; and the amount of time the boy spent with his mother instead of concentrating on his own health was bordering on ridiculous. At least this way he could be laying down.

The third reason, if anything, was for their own benefit. As heartbreaking as the picture of mother and son seemed, the same nurses had become very wary of the child the longer they interacted with him. Though he was usually passive and sweet, it would all change whenever anyone tried to separate him from his mother’s bed. His tear-filled eyes would harden in an almost animalistic fury and his small presence would seem to grow in size, darkening like a shadow in the night. He never spoke when he was like that, but his stare glared enough daggers to get the point across. No one was to separate them. It was unnerving how easily a four-year-old child was able to cow a group of adults and send shivers down their spines, but the boy’s gaze spoke promises of distruction if they even dared to come between him and his mother. 

So, they let him be.

And so, it came as a relief to everyone involved that Maria Stark’s coma did not last as long as expected. In just over three weeks, her eyes had fluttered open, landing immediately on her son’s pale face. The boy, of course, burst into tears as soon as he took notice of his mother’s warm gaze. No words were exchanged between the two as the nurses and doctors began running around gathering data and taking blood tests. Mrs. Stark simply held her son in a tight embrace as he cried into her shoulder, murmuring the Italian lullabies that she always sang to him before he went to sleep. There was no sign of that terrifying boy in sight as Maria held her overjoyed son, and those around them sighed in relief at the sight.

However, the respite didn’t last for long as the boy began to whisper sharp and terrifying words in his mother’s ear.

“I swear to you, momma. I swear to you on my love for you,” he murmured bitingly, “I will make the person pay for what they did to you. It will be _I_ who will be protecting _you_ from now on and I will not rest until that person has fallen so far from grace that not even God can find them.”

The utter silence that followed was almost tangible. The nurses had stopped their test-taking and the two doctors had paused mid-argument, all eyes settling on the back of the child who had just been breaking down in tears minutes before. They all just stood frozen in shock at the boy’s words, horrified at how someone his age could even talk in such a manner. Yet somehow, it became even more disturbing as the woman holding him only seemed to tighten her hold more, her face grim yet proud.

“I know,” she whispered back.

After that, the staff didn’t seem to know what to do, automatically going on autopilot to finish the rest of the check-ups. Internally, they were all screaming, worried beyond belief for the sanity of the boy before them. They had taken his odd behavior as simple protectiveness from a person who had gone through a traumatic event, but now they weren’t so sure anymore. The pure anger and ferocity, with a hint of madness, that simmered just beneath those words had no place being spoken by a toddler. They weren’t sure the woman had woken up quite sane either. Her response to his declarations were mild to say the least and could have even been read as supportive.

None of them knew what to think. So, they just continued working. They couldn’t do anything about it either way anyway, especially if it involved the Stark family. Even when they saw evidence that the attack had not been as it seemed. What with Howard Stark’s absence in the hospital altogether and the bruises on the kid’s arms fitting a bit too closely to the size of the billionaire’s own hands for comfort. It was all a bit too...suspicious.

But they all knew very well that they could do nothing. These people were the untouchables of society and that became even more abundantly clear when Maria and Tony Stark were eventually discharged without much fuss, and the SI company lawyers immediately came marching in to make sure that everyone’s lips were sealed. So, there was really no point in bringing up the boy’s frightening declarations in the first place. It would only bring scrutiny on the hospital. Even when they saw the looks, the changes in the little boy’s expression when his father was in his vicinity or when the man’s back was turned. It was during those moments when the child seemed to warp back into that dangerous animal that they’d only seen glimpses of before, dark and predatory—simply waiting for the right time to strike.

It was also during those times, that any suspicions on the true identity of the attacker were fully answered.

Thus, the staff remained silent. Most of them, willingly so. Howard Stark would pay for what he did. They had no doubt.

Of course, years later—after Tony Stark inherited Stark Industries, earned himself the infamous name of Merchant of Death, and became the most hated supervillain in the world—these same people who got to know the toddler-version of the man would claim that they saw it coming from miles away.


	3. A Gift so Precious

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter about Tony's time in the hospital.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I'm back! Sorry for the wait. RL sucks and college is such a bummer on the psyche. Anyway, here's another chapter for you lovely people. Hope you like it. Comments are my life blood, so please feel free to share your thoughts!

Chapter 3:

Howard Stark was a lucky man.

Though the darkness still lurked, it was not strong enough to truly punish the billionaire. Not yet, at least. If it were to fulfill what it promised, it needed a plan. Needed a form of action. The boy was too weak to do anything at the moment, too young to know the ways of the world. Not only did he need to grow up healthy and strong in order for the plan to succeed, he also needed to learn how to protect himself until the moment was right.

So, it was during those silent weeks of recovery that the darkness took time to fully assess the effect its presence had on the boy. The child had been only slightly aware of its existence before he had woken up from his injuries. But after spending days doing nothing, the boy had taken to gently prodding at the new presence in his head.

As genius as he may be, a toddler was still a toddler, and poking a potentially dangerous entity within his own mind was probably not the best idea. However, the darkness didn’t mind. In fact, it welcomed the interaction for it allowed it to see its own boundaries and limitations.

_What are you?_ the boy had asked one day. It had been the second week into the child’s recovery and he was currently sitting on the edge of his bed looking across the room at his mother’s prone form.

The darkness was taken aback at first at being contacted so directly, having gotten used to the gentle—yet silent—touches of the other’s mind, and had hesitated in its response. Then the surprise slowly turned into contemplation. It, itself, did not know what it was and didn’t know how to answer.

**_I am what I am,_** it decided to say.

The boy tilted his head at this. His chocolate brown eyes were filled with a boundless curiosity as he processed the words. There was no fear in the way he regarded the new presence within his mind, the darkness observed, just the natural inquisitiveness a child would have at seeing something they’ve never seen before.

The boy frowned slightly. _Do you have a name then?_ he inquired.

**_No_** , it answered simply.

The frown only deepened. The darkness was confused at the boy’s reaction. It did not understand why it mattered that it didn’t have a name.

_Don’t you want one?_

**_Do you wish for me to have one?_** It asked back curiously.

None of the medical staff were around at the moment to hear the boy’s small giggle, but if they were, they would have all cooed and quietly celebrated the respite from the sadness that seemed to surround him constantly. The darkness decided that it wanted to hear it more often as well.

_That’s not what I asked, silly._

**_Do I need one?_** It queried.

_Of course!_ The boy said with conviction, _Momma always said that having a name is like having something meant for them and them alone. It’s what makes us who we are!_

The darkness felt an unfamiliar warmth curl inwardly within itself. The boy’s smile was like the sun. **_Your mother is a very smart woman_** , it said. However, it instantly regretted it as the child’s grin slipped away once more.

“Yeah, she is,” the boy murmured out loud, barely a whisper, mood shifting in seconds. Tears began welling up at the edges of his eyes and his voice wavered. “She’s the smartest person in the whole entire world.”

The darkness began to feel what it would later identify as panic. It didn’t quite understand why, but something within itself knew that it wanted nothing more than to see the boy’s smile again. As fleeting as it had been before, the moment of happiness felt like something precious, something to be protected. Compared to that, the tears were like useless pennies. The darkness wanted them gone. And so, it spoke up before they could fall any further.

**_How about you give me a name then?_** it nudged the boy gently within his head. **_Something just for me._**

Thankfully, this seemed to be just the thing to distract the child. His lower lip stopped quivering and the tight line of his shoulders relaxed back into their normal positions. The darkness relaxed in response as well, relieved that the sadness in the air was once again diverted. Fleeting as the moment probably was—it felt like a success. The toddler hesitantly rubbed at his eyes, mentally turning his attention towards the darkness.

_Don’t you want to choose one for yourself?_ He sniffled. His eyes were still red-rimmed, but the tell-tale tears were no longer present.

**_No, I want you to give me one._ **

The boy’s eyes widened. _Wow,_ he murmured in amazement, _No one’s ever asked me to name them before._

**_It would be an honor_** , the darkness stated.

The smile returned full force as they the child squirmed where he sat in his hospital bed, the brown curls on top of his head bobbing in sync with the movement. The darkness felt the strange warmth from before take root inside itself once again. It did not know what the feeling was just yet, but whatever it was, the darkness definitely wanted it to stay there. The boy’s excitement seemed to be contagious.

_Cool!_ The toddler declared and scrunched up his face in deep thought. _How about…Edward?_ He finally concluded after a moment.

**_Edward?_ **

The boy smiled and sat straighter. _Yep! I like it._ The boy proclaimed proudly. _I think it suits you. Don’t you?_

The darkness took a moment to roll the six-letter word around in its mind. It had no opinion either way, but if the boy liked the name, it would suit the darkness just fine. In a strange sort way, it felt like it was being given a gift.

**_Yes_** , it confirmed, ** _I do believe it does._**

_***_

Later on, the boy eventually fell fast asleep, tired after a day of staying up for hours looking after his mother. His conscious was now totally enveloped in the dark shrouds of slumber and the darkness stood watch over his mind, making sure to keep the nightmares at bay. The time in the hospital had been exhausting for the both of them. Staying up guarding his mother and waiting every second for her to wake up was far more tiring than it seemed.

It was definitely a rest overdue, the darkness concluded. And it was during that time watching over the boy, bruises still littering his body, that the rage that had been simmering at the surface, finally took hold once more. For too long the boy had been scared at night, too frightened of his father to get true sleep. For too long he had been terrified for his mother with nightmares filled with her screams. For too long he had been verbally beaten down and ripped of his innocence. For too long he had been _afraid._

Now, all that will change. For the darkness is there to hide him, to hold him, and to protect him, and will continue to do so until it is no longer needed. No child, especially one who still shows kindness after going through such terrible acts, should ever have to stand on their own.

The darkness—no. _Edward_ hummed in thought.

In order to do that, however, it needed to strategize and make a plan. The warmth that had settled in memory of the boy’s smile was suddenly pushed aside as cold and calculating plots began to form in its mind. The darkness growled lowly at the memory of the broken woman lying across the room. Oh yes, the billionaire would definitely pay for what he’d done. But not through physical means. The man deserved far worse than just a beating. He deserved to have every single thing he valued ripped away from him. Yes, Edward purred in satisfaction.

Howard Stark was a lucky man, indeed.

But it was a luck that would eventually run out.

***

17 Years Later

Headline News: December 17th, 1991

**HOWARD AND MARIA STARK DIE IN CAR ACCDENT**

_Howard Stark, founder of Stark Industries, was confirmed dead this morning after suffering massive internal injuries from a fatal car crash. His wife, Maria Stark, was also in the car and confirmed dead at the crash scene as well. An investigation is currently underway to discover the cause of such an unfortunate tragedy._

_Both Howard and Maria Stark are survived by their son, Anthony Stark, who is set to inherit his father’s business upon his death. No report or formal statement has been issued to the public as of yet. However, Howard Stark’s business partner, Obadiah Stane, has announced his own condolences on the matter, stating, “the death of such a brilliant inventor has taken us all by surprise and fills us all with extreme grief for such a tremendous loss. Our thoughts and prayers are with the Stark family during this difficult time.”_

****

Headline News: December 25th, 1991

**ANTHONY STARK HAS GONE MISSING**

_Just a week after America suffered the terrible tragedy of Howard and Maria Stark’s passing, news has just come that their only surviving family member, Anthony Stark, has gone missing. He was last seen yesterday, the 24 th, in his home in Malibu, California by his friend, James Rhodes. After a thorough search of the man’s house, it was reported that there was no evidence of foul play of any kind. Mr. Rhodes gave his own statement saying that Mr. Stark “wasn’t acting strangely before this,” and that he was “not a man to just disappear out of the blue.” Though there is still an ongoing investigation on Mr. Stark’s disappearance any information connected to the matter would be greatly appreciated and should be reported to the police immediately. _


End file.
